Page 40 of Silver in the Bone

“Longer than that.” Neve smiled. “And by the way, I never told you I was one of the Cunningfolk. That was your assumption, and you know what they say about assumptions.”

My gaze narrowed. “Explain.”

“They make an ass out of you—” Neve began.

Cabell held up a hand, gently interrupting her. “What my sister wants to know is how you tracked her down in the first place.”

“I was getting to that,” Neve said, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, here’s the thing. My auntie is one of the Cunningfolk, and her magic gift allows her to find lost things.”

Absently, she touched something hidden beneath her shirt, just at the breastbone. A necklace of some kind—a locket or a crystal, maybe.

“Nashbury Lark sought her out seven years ago to see if she might be able to locate Carnwennan, the dagger of King Arthur,” Neve continued. “Auntie couldn’t find it through her scrying or even through vision walking, which frustrated her greatly, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“We are intimately acquainted with dead ends in our line of work, yes,” I said. A feeling winnowed through me, sharp and quick. The memory followed in its wake. “The shop in Charleston?”

Neve’s hands clapped together. “You do remember! I was supposed to be in bed, but I listened at the top of the stairs.”

Tucked behind King Street and open only after midnight, the shop resembled an apartment more than a business. I remembered the way the moonlight had woven itself through the many scrolls of maps tied together in neat bundles. Mountains of them, like stacks of hollow bones, waiting for their turn.

Neve’s aunt, Linden Goode, was easy to recall, with her warm voice, her apron smelling of sweet mint and lemon as she bid us welcome and ushered us inside. Cabell and I had been sent off to a corner with a bowl of stew to wait for her and Nash to conduct their business. We’d only just been able to see her instinctively reaching for maps. Her selenite dowsing crystal had looked like a star amid the candlelight of the dark room.

She had sung low and deep, and the crystal had begun to spin and spin, fruitlessly searching for the dagger Nash so desperately wanted. In the end, I’d been the one to find it through plain old-fashioned research and good guesses.

“We’d chased down every other lead at that point,” I said faintly.

“Normally she won’t help Hollowers find treasures they’ll only sell, but he said he needed it for one of his children, so she agreed,” Neve explained. “Nashbury gave his address as your guild library, so I kept an eye out for you there and you actually showed up, allowing our destinies to collide once more.”

“So what was all that stuff in the tarot shop about?” I asked. “Just to toy with me?”

“I was trying to feel you out,” Neve said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Which I did. And now we’re here, hiding in this shed. You, confused. Me, with an offer.”

“Yeah, about that,” I began. “Could you at least put the wand away first?”

“Oh—yeah, of course.” She glanced down at it as if surprised she was still gripping it, then unzipped her fanny pack, somehow managing to slip the wand inside. It had to be spelled to hold more than it was meant to.

“Okay, seriously, what’s the deal with the bag?” I asked when I couldn’t stand another second of staring at its terrifying cats.

“Isn’t it so cute?” she said brightly. “It even came with a hat that I think would look really good on you if you want to borrow it for a disguise.”

Neve retrieved a dark bundle from the depths of the fanny pack and shook it out, a black baseball cap with two green-lined cat ears attached to the top of it and the words FELINE SPOOKY! embroidered between them.

“She absolutely wants to borrow that,” Emrys said, delighted.

“Your proposal ... ?” Cabell prompted. I felt his hand shift from my shoulder to grip the back of my jacket, clearly afraid I might launch myself at our smirking rival.

“Yes, proposal. Right,” Neve said. “Here’s the thing—I think we should work together.” She glanced at Emrys. “Not you. I don’t know you.”

“Emrys Dye, at your service,” he offered wryly.

She sniffed a bit at that, and I warmed to her, just a little, for having no reaction to his family name.

“I can use my magic to help locate your father—Nash—and you can use the ring on whatever curse you may need broken,” Neve said. “Then I can claim it for the Council of Sistren.”

The name of the governing body of sorceresses always made the hair on my arms prickle.

“Do you know what they want it for?” I asked.

“I have no idea why they want it.” Neve shrugged. “I only know they do, and I’m going to be the one who brings it to them. It’s the only way I’ll be assigned a tutor and progress with my training.”

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